


Welcome Aboard

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Childbirth, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Plotbunnies, Wraith (Stargate)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: This is a possible scene I was playing around with for 'From Your Galaxy to Mine' (http://archiveofourown.org/works/9649880/chapters/21802100). Kinda based off of the episode where Torren is born. Posting it here because (a) I'm sick with the flu and writing is all I feel like doing, and (b) I wanted to try my hand at writing some Wraith stuff. Hope you enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

It has not been a good day.

Really, any day that starts without coffee can't be that great. But add to that an upbraiding from Rodney (over something he's sure he didn't do) and the threat of a killer headache right behind his eyes, and it gets even worse.

And then, to top it all off, they have a rendezvous with Todd. Those are always a tense affair to say the least, but today there's a new kid in class: a Wraith Commander who'd heard of the cooperative work they've been doing with Todd and was allowed to sit in. Turns out his intentions were a bit less than sincere. About halfway through the talk, something set him off; he derailed the whole thing and ordered them all to be detained.

So here he is in a holding cell. Alone. He was taken out first, god only knows why. He's torn between being mad and just plain worried. He's been here over an hour, maybe more. What's happening to the others? If they've been taken to the Queen--his thoughts keep turning to Ronon in particular. He's way too far along, he should have sat this one out back in Atlantis. And he's seen how the Wraith look at him now, even Todd; he's practically a delicacy. Why does he have to be so goddamn stubborn?

John strides to the other side of the cell. Damn, this place is creepy. Of course, it's a hive ship, it's not meant to be cozy or inviting, but still. Every so often, he swears he can hear a heartbeat. He presses his hand into the wall; it dents a little under his fingers, then quickly congeals back into place when he lifts his hand away. His other hand wanders down to his gun. He's half-tempted to shoot the wall just to see what would happen.

Nothing good, that's for sure.

Crisp footsteps echo down the hall outside. John looks toward the sound. It's a pair of guards, with his teammates behind them. He stands his ground. At the guards' command, the cell door recedes into the walls; they shove Teyla, Rodney, Jennifer, and Ronon inside, and the door grows back into place. Only then does John move toward them.

"Everyone okay?" he glances at each of them in turn; they look a little roughed up, but otherwise whole.

"We are fine," replies Teyla. She sounds as thrilled by this adventure as he is. "Todd did not allow them to harm us."

"So what happened?"

"Well, the Commander wanted us all 'terminated'," says Rodney with air-quotes, "and Todd stopped him. They argued for like thirty minutes about what to do with us, then they questioned each of us seperately, then they argued some more...hell if I know." he sits down with his back to the wall.

Dr. Keller shakes her head solemnly, her gaze fixed on the floor. She folds her arms close. "We shouldn't have let that guy sit in on the talk, Shepperd. I'm afraid we might have ruined the whole thing."

"You may be right." John agrees, and really hopes he's wrong. His attention drifts over to his boyfriend, who's standing with his back to the wall and his head bowed, holding his belly. His face is drawn, as though concentrating. "Ronon? You okay?"

Ronon lifts his gaze to John's. "Yeah. Just sore."

As if on cue, another pair of footsteps approaches the cell. Ronon's expression hardens.

"Shepperd." Todd's voice cuts the silence. Wraith voices are something you never quite get used to--metallic and grating, like cicada noise turned into words. John turns to face him. "I must apologize for the actions of the Commander," Todd continues smoothly, "he has had no experience in dealing with humans, aside from culling."

"Really. I never would've guessed." John deadpans back to him.

"Indeed. He still believes you are not to be trusted, and should be terminated immediately. I will endeavor to convince him otherwise, but we may be forced to take this matter to the Queen."

"So what do you expect us to do while you guys fight it out? Do we go back to Atlantis, or do we just sit here?"

"Yes. Until a decision is made, I'm afraid you will not be allowed to leave. You may want to, ah...what's the phrase...make yourselves at home." with that, Todd flashes them a toothy smile, bows, and strides back down the corridor.

This has _not_ been a good day.

\--

"Cookiecutter sharks."

Three pairs of eyes turn to Rodney.

"What?"

"Cookiecutter shark,  _Isistius brasiliensis._ The Wraith."

"Rodney, you're making even less sense than usual," says John.

"Their teeth, y'know, I've been trying to figure out what they remind me of. 'Cause cookiecutter sharks have the same kind of rows of teeth that can--" Rodney pauses in mid-gesture. No one is impressed. "Never mind." he sits back against the wall.

"Thank you, Rodney, that's very helpful to our current situation." John grouses at him. They've been in here for three hours now. Three hours with hardly any word from Todd. God only knows how much longer they'll have to wait...

"Ronon." Teyla this time. John looks up from his place at the door. "If you don't stop pacing, you are going to wear a hole in the floor. We are in no danger at the moment; sit down and rest."

Ronon throws her a sidelong look. He's been pacing around the cell since he arrived, keeping one eye on the door and one hand on his belly. He takes a few more steps, as though considering his options, then grudgingly goes to the nearest wall and sits down against it. John watches with suspicion; Ronon's not usually this restless. But he doesn't pursue it. This place could give anyone the jitters, and most people don't have the history Ronon does. And being pregnant doesn't help, either.

The ship's engines falter, then fall silent. They've stopped. Rodney speaks up again.

"They're doing this on purpose."

"What do you mean?" Ronon glares.

"Well, it's been three hours." Rodney gestures to the corridor outside. "How many Wraiths have  _you_ seen out there?"

"I think they're making a statement," says Teyla. "Reminding us of who is really in control of the situation."

"Guys, this is a diplomatic mission." John reminds them. "Somehow, I doubt Todd would want to sabotage that."

"Oh yeah? Why else would they have let us keep our guns and headsets? Try contacting Atlantis. See what happens." Rodney nods to him.

After a moment's suspicion, John presses his earpiece.

"Shepperd to Atlantis, come in Atlantis."

Static.

"Shepperd to Atlantis, do you copy?"

Static.

"Woolsey, this is Colonel Shepperd, do you copy?"

Static.

"Told you," says Rodney, "they put up a dampening field."

"Or we're out of communications range."

"Uh-uh. You hear that echo in the transmission? The signal's not even making it off the ship."

Dr. Keller chimes in. "Alright, let's say they  _did_ cut communications. Now what?"

"Well, we can either wait for our gracious host to make up his mind on what to do with us, or we get the hell outta here." says Rodney.

"I say we give it some time." says John to both of them. "We don't know the full story. Let's give it a little bit longer, then-"

"John?" Teyla's voice is soft, but it carries. John follows her gaze. Ronon has his head pressed back into the wall, eyes closed, cradling his belly with both hands. His jaw is clenched; he seems to be holding himself very still. John crosses the cell and crouches at his side.

"You okay, Chewie?"

"I'm fine." Ronon doesn't open his eyes.

"Ronon. I know you better than that. What's wrong?"

Ronon relaxes slightly. His eyes open. He seems to be weighing his words. "...I might be in labor." he says in an undertone.

You could have heard a pin drop. " _Might_ be?"

His boyfriend smirks, but not unkindly. "Okay, I  _am_ in labor."

"That doesn't sound any better!" John hisses. "How long-?"

"A while. It's not too bad yet. But we might wanna get out of here sooner rather than later."

John drags a hand through his hair. He can feel the rest of the team watching them. Not to mention a steady panic creeping up. They're on a hive ship, quite possibly in open space, with no medkit, no idea what's happening, and no way to contact Atlantis. One big TV-show cliché. They might not have the luxury of waiting after all, even if that means going back to square one with Todd. John swallows past the lump in his throat.

"And we will, I promise. Just hang in there, okay?" he takes Ronon's hand in his own, gives it a squeeze, and stands up. Now they just need a plan.

 

oooOOO000OOOooo


	2. Chapter 2

Five hours now.

They're no closer to getting out than they were at the start. Ronon's getting steadily worse; they're doing what they can to keep him comfortable, but if they don't figure something out soon, they'll have a whole different problem on their hands.

"Ronon, you need to breathe. Hypocapnia isn't going to make this any easier." Dr. Keller's been sitting with him to keep an eye on his progress and keep him grounded. At the same time, he's been trying to meditate, but that's getting a lot harder. As the current contraction eases off, he inhales as deeply as he can, then lets it out slowly. Dr. Keller nods. "There you go. Just like that. How's it going back there?"

That last part is directed at Rodney, who's positioned himself at the cell door. There's a circuit panel on the wall just outside; he has his arms threaded awkwardly through gaps in the door and is picking away at the panel. He turns his head as much as this position will allow. "Well, ideally, I could just use a tablet to tap into this, but our friends out there were nice enough to relieve me of it. So it's going about as well as molasses in January." there's a snap and a sharp electrical  _fzzt_ from the panel. He startles and tries to cover it with a shrug. "But, being a master of impossible situations, it shouldn't take me too much longer to figure out. In fact, I--"

Rodney is cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps. He quickly pulls his arms back and tries to look nonchalant, just in time for Todd to come sweeping around the corner. The Wraith looks over the cell's occupants with something approaching amusement.

"Well?" John demands. He's way past being polite.

"My friends. I apologize for keeping you waiting." he sounds as sorry as you'd expect from a Wraith. "I am doing all that I can, but the Queen is regrettably on the side of the Commander."

"Your efforts are appreciated, but we must return to Atlantis. Consider it a gesture of good will." Teyla, at least, is diplomatic.

"As I said before: I am doing everything I can." there's a hint of a warning in his voice. "But if I am terminated, there will be no one to continue the negotiations in my place. I must tread carefully."

"Alright, then how's this for an incentive: in a few hours, Atlantis is going to come looking for us. I guarantee they won't be too patient about it." says John.

"I respond poorly to threats, Shepperd." Todd says coldly.

"It's not a threat, I'm just telling you what'll happen. Time is of the essence here."

Todd doesn't answer at first. His gaze wanders over to Ronon, panting his way through another contraction. He looks thoughtful. "So it would seem."

John bristles visibly at this. "I'm glad we understand each other."

Now Todd turns back to look at him. "Very well...there may be a way to break you out." he speaks haltingly, as though reluctant. "I can sound the alarm to create a diversion, then remotely deactivate the cell door. From there, you could go back to your ship, but I would be unable to provide further help."

"Would you not be implicated?" asks Teyla.

"I think I can be more careful than that."

"Well, it's better than standing around." says Rodney.

"Or attempting to break into the controls." Todd says smoothly. "Which, by the way, would not have succeeded; you would have triggered an overload, and the resulting explosion would have killed you." Rodney goes a little pale. Todd ignores him. "I will act when the coast is clear; wait for my signal. Do nothing until then." with that, he turns on his heel and is gone.

John goes instantly to his boyfriend's side, as though pulled by a string. "Hey. How you holding up?"

"The contractions are less than four minutes apart; his water broke on the last one," Dr. Keller informs him. "Stress is only going to accelerate the process." Ronon looks back and forth between them. His face is flushed, and his eyes are glazed with pain. Somehow he manages a weak half-smile.

"Kid's impatient," he breathes. "Like his dad."

"Well, tell him he needs to wait. We're gonna get you out of here, I promise." John hoists his own weak smile in return.

Ronon lets his head fall back against the wall. "You better."

\--

Dr. Keller was right-- in forty-five minutes, Ronon's contractions go from four minutes to two. By the time Todd (finally) shows up again, John is awfully close to abandoning the plan and just breaking them out himself. No way is their kid going to be born on a Wraith ship, not if he can help it.

"We must act now." Todd strides right up to the door without so much as a 'hello'. "I have requested a recess, but there is not much time. Wait until you hear the alarm; the door will be deactivated by then. There should be no guards in the area, but keep your weapons ready." he turns to leave, then hesitates. "And...good luck. I am sorry these negotiations were not more productive."

"Yeah, me too." John pulls his gun from the holster just long enough to unlock it; he can hear Teyla and Rodney doing the same.

"Perhaps next time." the Wraith nods curtly and disappears.

A minute passes. Then another. John and Dr. Keller help Ronon to his feet just as the alarm begins to sound.

"That's our cue," John says--or yells, almost. You can hardly hear anything over the screeching, it seems to come from everywhere. "Ronon, you think you can make it?"

"Do I have a choice?" Ronon pants. He grits his teeth, throws one arm over John's shoulder and the other over Dr. Keller's, and starts to walk.

The door opens for them as they approach. Teyla takes the lead, followed by Rodney, with the trio bringing up the rear. Gun drawn, she jogs to the nearest cover, looks around, and gives the all-clear. Then again to the next, and the next, until Ronon stops in his tracks with a hiss.

"Easy, easy, remember to breathe." Dr. Keller lowers him to the ground and he kneels there, breathing raggedly, while the rest of the team looks on. A full minute passes before he starts to relax again.

"Lots of pressure," he groans. "Not gonna make it."

"Yes you are." she helps him back to his feet. "Just focus and breathe. We'll get you there."

So the group hobbles on through the ship. It seems Todd was telling the truth: the guards must all be attending to whatever diversion he cooked up. They don't see a single one until they get out of the detention block.

Teyla abruptly flattens herself to the wall and motions for the others to do the same. A few moments later, they see why -- there's a pair of masked guards ambling down the corridor perpendicular to theirs. She and Rodney raise their guns and wait. Behind them, Ronon hunches into another contraction. John keeps one hand on his back, both reassuring and urging him to keep quiet. He almost manages it. Just as the guards have almost passed them, the contraction reaches its peak and punches a groan out of him. The guards spin around, blast rifles drawn; Teyla and Rodney unload a round of bullets into each of them.

"Go, go!"

The docking ports are at the end of the corridor. Teyla and Rodney flat-out run to get there, taking down three more guards along the way. John, Ronon, and Dr. Keller shamble after them as fast as they can. The jumper, when they get to it, is still unlocked. They get the door open and duck inside.

Ronon crumples onto a bench while Rodney and Teyla take their respective seats up front. His chest is heaving; he screws his eyes shut as another contraction slams into him. They're coming one after another now. Dr. Keller starts rummaging around for a medkit, still reminding him to breathe.

"Guys, we need to get back to Atlantis _soon_." she adds in the general direction of the cockpit.

"That's the thing, though," Rodney calls back, "you can have the cloak or you can have hyperdrive. Can't do both at once." as if to emphasize Dr. Keller's point, Ronon growls, low and desperate. Rodney casts a nervous glance over his shoulder. "Okay, okay, I can keep the cloak up just long enough to get us out of Wraith territory. Then I'll switch to hyperdrive. Just--just hang in there until then, okay?" the jumper's wings unfold and the engines whirr into life; they're off.

Ronon casts around for John, finds him, and reaches out. "John--"

John takes his hand. "Right here, Chewie. I gotcha."

"I can't do this, Shepperd."

"Yes you can. We're almost there. Just ten minutes, then we can start up the hyperdrive and we'll be out of here and back to Atlantis. You're doing so well, Ronon, you just gotta hang on a little longer."

"No, fuck, I can't-! Kid's in a hurry. I'm not gonna last that long."

John finds himself at a loss for words. He's not great at the whole reassurance thing anyway, but how do you respond to that? He glances up toward the cockpit. "Rodney?"

"Ten minutes, just give me ten minutes!"

There are Wraith darts everywhere. They're unpredictable; he has to turn and duck and weave to avoid colliding with any. In the back, Ronon puffs and pants through a few more contractions, before suddenly stopping mid-breath and swearing. He slides himself off the bench to the floor.

"Ronon?" Dr. Keller is back at his side in an instant. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"Out of time," he pants, "I gotta push." his voice is strained and desperate. Before she can respond, he pitches forward, chin to chest, and bears down hard. Then he reaches down and fumbles with the drawstring on his pants, trying to get it untied. John meets Dr. Keller's gaze; she gives him a single nod, and he helps Ronon out of his boots and pants while she gathers the necessary (if basic) supplies from the medkit. Nothing else for it now.

"Is everything alright?" Teyla's voice drifts back from the cockpit.

"Yes and no," John calls back. "The kid got impatient, he's coming ahead of schedule."

There's a rather tremulous little "oh my god" from Rodney. It's quickly drowned out, though, by a groan from Ronon as he pushes again.

"Good, Ronon. Keep it up." Dr. Keller dons a pair of gloves from the medkit. "Try to lift your legs up and back on the next contraction; Shepperd, you help keep him open."

John takes hold of Ronon's knee and presses it back toward the bench. Ronon lets his other knee fall to the side, opening his hips wider to make room.

"Feels like a fucking _boulder_ ," he grits out.

"He's coming fast, though, I can already see him. You're doing great." Dr. Keller kneels close in front of him. "Teyla, I'm gonna need you to send a message to Atlantis. Tell them we have a medical emergency on board."

"Understood."

"Now this is going to sound terrible, but I need you to not push on this one, okay, Ronon? Just breathe, let yourself open up."

Ronon fixes her with a glare, but forces himself to relax all the same, and pants harshly through the contraction. He grimaces as it peaks, throwing his head back against the bench.

"Okay, go ahead and push."

Ronon hisses some Satedan word that doesn't sound at all polite. His dreadlocks fall into his face as he heaves himself forward into the contraction. He pauses, takes a shallow breath, and pushes again. A little bitten-off whine escapes him.

"Not so hard. Ease up a little, you're going to tear--"

Ronon doesn't seem to hear. He continues to push; the baby's head comes to crown all of a sudden, and he cries out sharply.

"Damn." Dr. Keller reaches for a gauze bandage and holds it between Ronon's legs. Bright-red blood seeps into it. "Push slowly on the next one, okay?" reluctantly, he does as he's told, hissing through clenched teeth as the head crowns fully. "Easy, easy...almost there..." another cry from Ronon. "The head's out." Dr. Keller smiles. She grabs another gauze bandage. "Just a little more, Ronon. It's all downhill from here."

With John still keeping him open and Dr. Keller helping it along, the baby inches forward. One contraction, then another. In the cockpit, Rodney is saying something that doesn't even register; the jumper's engines kick into hyperdrive.

"C'mon, you've almost got him, don't let go of it. Keep pushing."

Pausing long enough to flick his dreadlocks out of his face, Ronon widens his stance and pushes. The shoulders ease their way out; another loud push, and the arms are delivered.

"One more."

"Ten minutes to Atlantis," says Teyla from the cockpit. No one seems to hear.

Suddenly Ronon seems fed up with the whole thing. He lets out a yell, and with one final heave, pushes his son into the world. Dr. Keller holds the baby on its side, clears its airways, and cleans it up, then holds it out to Ronon.

"Put him on your stomach, keep him warm."

Ronon gathers up the baby just as it starts to cry. He keeps it on his stomach; the cord is short, preventing him from lifting it much higher than that. His chest is still heaving.

"Oh my god," John breathes. He hurriedly strips off his jacket and drapes it over the baby, then turns a smile on Ronon. "You did it."

"I guess I did," Ronon pants. He's gone pale. He tries to scoot himself upright, but Dr. Keller stops him.

"Hold still. You're bleeding more than you should be, I need to get it under control." her voice is steady, but she won't meet John's gaze either. "Teyla, how long till we have communications?"

"Approximately thirty seconds."

"Okay, radio Atlantis as soon as we're in range. Have them meet us at the gate with a medical team."

"Understood."

John watches her work and tries to stay out of the way, but he pretty much stopped listening a few sentences ago. He's hung up on the 'bleeding more than you should be' part. There is a lot of blood. A  _lot_ of blood. Once the cord is cut, Ronon tries to curl up as much as the cramped space will let him. He looks like he's fighting to stay awake.

"'M cold," he slurs. He's going downhill fast. Dr. Keller unfolds the thermal blanket from the medkit and drapes it over him and the baby. He's shivering; the blanket crinkles when he moves. In the front of the jumper, John hears Teyla speaking with someone from Atlantis, interspersed with fretting from Rodney.

"You're gonna be fine, Ronon, but I need you to try and stay awake. Focus on my voice." Dr. Keller jostles him gently and nods to John for help.

"C'mon, talk to me, Chewie. Tell me, uh..." he scrambles for a topic. "what's your name?"

"Ronon. Ronon Dex." he's still slurring his words.

"Good, now where are we right now?"

"In space."

"...Fair enough. Can you be more specific?"

"Puddle-jumper. Pegasus galaxy."

"And what's today's date?"

This one takes a little longer. Ronon stares up at the ceiling in bleary thought before finally slurring, "Fuck if I know. Enough questions." John would have laughed, if the situation were different.

The jumper drops out of hyperspace. It feels like driving too fast over a bump in the road, but without the bump. "Approaching Atlantis," calls Teyla. "There is a medical team on its way."

"Thank you, Teyla." Ronon is starting to droop; Dr. Keller jostles him again. "Hey, none of that."

"'M sorry, I'm tired...just need t'close my eyes for a sec..." his eyes slide shut.

"Ronon, stay with us. We're almost home." John taps on Ronon's collarbone to get his attention. Ronon wrinkles his nose, but his eyes stay shut. He's distressingly pale. "Ronon.  _Ronon_. Eyes front, up and at 'em." Nothing. He looks at Dr. Keller; her expression is stony.

"Coming up to the 'gate," Rodney announces, as per protocol.

"Hurry," says John. As though it'll make any difference.

"For your information, Colonel, I am going at exactly the speed limit, and that's where I'm going to stay. If I go any faster, we'll go through the 'gate and keep going, and I for one would prefer a smooth landing to a crash landing."

"Rodney, I shouldn't have to tell you, we're running out of time here-!"

"Look, I'm going as fast as I can, okay?"

"Well, go faster!"

Rodney makes a little sound of annoyance. "Crossing the event horizon in T-minus ten, nine, eight..."

"Ronon, wake up, c'mon." John tries again, for all the good it'll do. Ronon's head has fallen forward to his chest; he's all but unresponsive.

"...Five, four, three, two, one--"

There's a familiar watery  _bloop_ as the jumper enters the wormhole. Then, in barely the time it takes to blink, they're through. John can see the jumper bay through the front window. They touch down; Dr. Keller stands and looks expectantly toward the rear hatch.

As soon as the hatch opens, the medical team comes rushing in. John finds himself crowded out of the way as they take Ronon's vitals, then the baby's. One of them starts Ronon on an IV. Then they load him onto the stretcher, trading numbers and terms that mean nothing to John, and wheel him back out of the jumper. John follows, close on the heels of Dr. Keller. Out of the jumper bay, down one corridor and up through another. When they reach sickbay, she finally turns to speak to John again.

"We need to take him into surgery, but I'll do my best to keep you updated." she takes his hand and squeezes gently. "He's going to be fine, John. I promise."

John's not sure he believes her. There's a knot in the pit of his stomach that feels like it's weighing him down. He just barely got to meet his son, and now he might lose him altogether, along with Ronon. He opens his mouth to say something -- he doesn't even know what -- but doesn't get the chance. Dr. Keller turns and jogs away to catch up with the stretcher. Then the sickbay doors clang shut, and he's alone.

 

oooOOO000OOOooo

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dr. Keller doesn't come back for quite some time.

Teyla shows up after a while, though (Rodney had to report to Woolsey). She doesn't talk; there's nothing to say. She sits with John instead, and just her presence is enough. John's mind is racing.  _It's been ages. Something must really be wrong._ Dr. Keller said Ronon would be fine, but he knows her well enough to recognize that look in her eyes. He doesn't doubt her abilities; far from it. It's his own brain that's scaring him. He knows he could still easily lose Ronon and the baby, and that thought keeps repeating and repeating in his head. He can't lose them. They've built a life for themselves and each other here in Atlantis, and they'd been so ready to have a family. If he lost that, Atlantis wouldn't be home anymore.

John's not sure how long he sits there waiting. But he's brought back to reality when Teyla taps his shoulder, and when he looks up, she directs his gaze to the sickbay doors. Through which Dr. Keller is walking, dressed in scrubs, with a bundle in her arms. John is on his feet before he's even processed the sight.

"Is he-?"

Dr. Keller gives him a small smile. "They're both stable." John lets out a breath of relief. "Ronon lost a lot of blood, but he's going to be okay. We're just finishing up, then he'll go to recovery. And this little guy," she looks down at the bundle in her arms, "is very healthy for someone who had such a rough entrance to the world. We had him in an incubator to keep an eye on him, but I think what he really needs is someone to hold him." her smile widens as she looks back up at John. He finds himself a little shell-shocked. "What do you think? Want to come meet your son?"

John is speechless. He glances back at Teyla. She grins; it's infectious. He turns back to Dr. Keller and somehow manages a shaky "Absolutely."

She opens the door and nods for him to follow. "Come on in."

Once he gets cleaned up (Wraith ships are not the tidiest places), Dr. Keller directs him to an out-of-the-way, unoccupied room. The curtains are half-drawn, muting the late-afternoon sunlight to a diffuse glow, and there's an armchair in the corner. Where'd they get that, anyway? He takes a seat, and Dr. Keller approaches with the baby.

"You ready?"

John nods. Dr. Keller passes the little bundle to him; he takes him in his arms, tentative at first, then with a little more confidence. The newborn is wrapped up tight in a soft white blanket, with a knit cap on his head and a paper bracelet on one tiny wrist. Dr. Keller makes a few adjustments, helps them get comfortable, and steps back. She takes a walkie-talkie out of her pocket and places it on a table within arm's reach.

"I have to go check on Ronon, but I'll be close by. Just radio me if you need anything, okay?"

"Sure."

Dr. Keller slips back out of the room, pulling the makeshift curtain door behind her. It's quiet. Really, it's the first chance he's had to breathe all day. He stares down at the blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms, and feels a surge of emotion like a headrush. He lifts one hand -- which takes a little rearranging -- to touch a little pink nose, then one tiny, clenched hand, which uncurls and grabs his finger with surprising strength. The hospital bracelet reads _Dex--Male, 9 lbs. 1 oz., 21 in.--DOB_ _10/5_. He smiles. "Hi there, little guy. Sorry 'bout all that running around earlier. That's not exactly how your papa and I planned it to happen." he strokes the baby's hand with his thumb. He and Ronon had had it all worked out: Ronon wanted to deliver in their quarters, with only John and Dr. Keller present. In fact, this was supposed to be their last mission before going on paternity leave. Look how well that worked out. "But, you're here now," he adds. "There's a lot of people who'll want to meet you. Auntie Teyla, Woolsey, Zelenka, Rodney...actually, Rodney won't be too thrilled, but that's okay...I wish you could've met Ford, though. He would've loved you." the baby lets go of his finger in favor of grabbing the edge of the blanket. Blueberry-blue eyes crack open and squint at him, trying to focus on his face. They slam shut after a moment or two; clearly it's not worth the effort just now. The baby yawns, making John smile even wider. God, he's already turning to mush. "Yeah, I know the feeling." the day is catching up to him. He cuddles his son a little closer and leans his head on the back of the chair. "Let's nap for a little bit, then you can go see your papa." he murmurs. Not ten minutes later, they're both asleep.

 

* * *

 

"Colonel Sheppard?"

He startles awake. The room has dimmed even more; how long was he asleep? Dr. Keller is standing in front of him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Thought you might like to know; Ronon's been moved to recovery. He's asking for you."

John's grin must be answer enough. Dr. Keller leads him out of the room and back into the main sickbay. From there, they go to one of the regular treatment rooms (if you can call them rooms. They're really just hospital beds separated by curtains). Ronon's room is at the far (quiet) end of the sickbay. Dr. Keller pauses halfway there.

"I have to warn you, he's going to be a little groggy. He'll need a couple more units of blood, and we've got him on some medication for the pain. We'd like to keep him for at least another night."

She pulls the curtain aside a bit. There's Ronon, propped up in bed. He has a pulse oximeter glowing on his index finger and two IV lines going; his belly -- what's left of it -- is just visible under his hospital gown. He's still pale, but not white as a sheet like he was earlier. He looks fast asleep. At the sound of the curtain, though, his eyes drift open.

"How you holding up, Ronon?" Dr. Keller asks him with a smile, checking one of the monitors he's connected to. He answers with a sound that could mean any number of things. "I brought you some visitors," she adds. John takes his cue and approaches the bed. Ronon squints at him. Then suddenly, through the pain-med-induced glaze, his eyes light up. "John. Hi."

"Hi, yourself. You gave us all one hell of a scare back there, Chewie."

"I know. 'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you and the baby are still with us." John sits himself on the edge of the bed, now holding the newborn to his shoulder. Ronon half-smiles. Then a look of hazy alarm crosses his face.

"Wait, the baby. Where's--?"

"Right here." John looks at the newborn dozing in his arms, then back at his boyfriend. "You wanna hold him?"

The words are barely out of his mouth before Ronon reaches out. John passes the baby over; Ronon tucks the bundle into the crook of his arm. His movements are awkward but so, so gentle. He studies the baby's face as though trying to memorize it, and murmurs a few words in Satedan. The pulse oximeter casts a bizarre glow through the blankets.

"Look at you," his voice is just above a whisper. The baby opens his eyes at the sound. Ronon's eyes crinkle up in a smile. "Hey, blue eyes. Remember me?"

"Sure seems to." John whispers back, without really knowing why he's whispering. It just seems appropriate.

"And he's okay?" this question is directed at Dr. Keller, who's standing watchful by the head of the bed.

"He's just fine," she assures him. "In fact, he might even be hungry, if you're ready to try feeding him."

It takes a minute or two to get them settled. Ronon ends up with his hospital gown hanging off one shoulder, holding the baby on a cushion across his lap. Getting it to latch on and eat takes even longer. Once he does, though, Ronon settles back into his mound of pillows like he hasn't a care in the world. John carefully slots himself in beside his boyfriend. As the baby nurses, John alternates between watching him and watching Ronon. Part of him can't believe they really get to have this. He almost  _didn't_ get to. His gaze drifts to the IV pole by the bed, and the bloodbag hooked to Ronon's arm. They're not out of the woods just yet.

Ronon gingerly repositions himself;even that small movement makes him wince. It also annoys the baby, who stops nursing to glare at him. He rubs his thumb over its tiny shoulderblades in an awkward comforting motion. "Alright, I'm sorry. Don't look at me like that." then he catches John looking at him. "What?"

"Nothing. Just watching." on impulse, John reaches out and strokes his finger along the baby's cheek. The baby furrows his brow. "Just making sure you're okay."

His boyfriend smirks. "We're fine, John."

"Well, you look like you could use about a week's worth of sleep."

"I just gave birth. _And_ almost bled out." Ronon deadpans.

"Yeah, well--"

"Sheppard."

"Hm?"

"Shut up."

John does as he's told. He scoots a little closer and watches intently while Ronon positions the baby against his shoulder. Then Ronon melts back into the pillows. After a while, John muses, "He's gonna need a name."

"Mm." Ronon gently pats the baby's back. His eyes are getting heavy.

"You decided on one?" Ronon's been mulling over names for the past month. In Satedan culture, the person who bears the child gets to choose its name.

Ronon sighs. Either thinking, or dozing. "He's not a Zyron," he mutters. John hums quiet agreement. A long pause follows.

"So if he's not a Zyron, what is he?" John prompts him gently.

Another pause.

"Ronon...?"

Ronon stirs. He repositions the baby to the crook of his arm and relaxes again. Then he drags his eyes open and looks down at his son. His voice is sleep-soft when he says, finally, "Teo." thoughtfully, but with complete certainty. And with that, his eyes slide shut. 

John smiles. Teo it is. He leans over and brushes his fingers over the baby's hand. "Welcome aboard, Teo."

 

oooOOO000OOOooo

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment--I'd love to hear from you!


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